My Demigod Story
by Ckelly
Summary: I had to grow up pretty fast. After I learned who I really was, I didn't have any other choice. It was grow up, or get killed. Your lucky. You don't have to worry about that. Stay that way. Don't read about what I went through. Don't say you weren't warned.
1. Chapter 1

I was terrified. However fast I ran, it would be faster. No matter how well I hid, it would find me. I was doomed. My eyes scanned over the dark, secluded forest, desperately searching for a hiding place, knowing I would find none. The branches hang over me like arms, trying to drag me into oblivion. I hear the rustle of leaves behind me. Breathing hard, I whip around. A deep growl greats me along with a pair of wide, blood red eyes. The beasts legs tense, preparing to pounce. It's foaming mouth opens, allowing me to see its many rows of sharp, rotting teeth, stained with the blood of its last meal. Those teeth were the last thing it's victims saw. The last thing I would see.  
I was next.  
Without warning, the beast leaped. It's claws neared my throat, it's pungent breath on my neck. I tried to scream, to call for help, but the cry caught in my throat. I-  
"Students, Language Arts is over." My teachers deep voice shook me from my book. "You may return to your desks and put out your math supplies."  
With some degree of difficulty I tore my eyes away from the pages of 'The Beast' ' 'Darn.' I silently whined to myself. 'I need to know what happens!' I slowly made my way back to my desk, mind still on the book, and took out my math supplies.  
"Now class." My teacher began, standing in front of the Smart Board that had been donated to our school by a generous parent. " I know just began our exponent unit yesterday, and I don't expect any of you to understand yet, so don't feel to bad if you cannot answer this question. It's a very hard concept to grasp. Can anyone one tell me what seven to the third power is?" That was his super hard question? I saw a few students desperately scribbling in their notebooks, clearly having no luck. I didn't even need to write anything. It was an easy enough problem to do in my head. I raised my hand. "Yes Maia?" "343" I quickly answered. "Well done. Now can anyone tell me how they arrived at that answer-" I immediately raised my hand. "Who has not already answered?" He finished, shooting a smile in my direction. "Teachers pet." A boy named Riley grumbled, glaring at me. My checks turned tomato red. I wished I could just crawl under my desk and disappear to a place with no teasing, to a place where I mattered. I wished I could be someone else, someone like the people in my books. People who were brave and saved the world. People who had made a name for themselves. Like Charlotte Doyle, or Violet Baudelaire, or Hermione Granger. If they could make a difference, then why couldn't I? I mean really, how hard could being a hero be?  
If only I had known.


	2. Chapter 2

At first, the trouble wasn't me. It was the goat kid.  
I was literally bored to tears. My teacher was trying to explain long division to our class for the fourth time that week, because half the kids hadn't been paying attention.  
I sighed. I shouldn't have been surprised that no one had paid attention. Hardly anyone ever did.  
I was saved from completely dying of boredom by the lunch bell.  
Marsyas and I were the last ones out of the room. Him because he had a limp, and me because I had to pick up the books Riley had knocked off my desk.  
It was probably all the shoving everyone was doing to get to the door that made his foot fall off. And yes, I said his foot. Underneath it was a hoof. My jaw dropped. Hooves. Marsyas had hooves.  
Only one other kid in are class was there at the time. A boy named Adrian. I could have sworn that he saw Marsyas's foot, but he left the room without saying a word, so I decided I was wrong. It's not exactly like that was the thing I was thinking about at the time.  
I met Marsyas's eyes with my wide ones. Marsyas looked at me with a look of what might have been pity. Or fear.  
I had a million questions to ask him, but I couldn't say a word.  
He seemed more nervous then usual. I remember thinking that it was odd how he always seemed agitated, like someone was out to get him. I had dismissed it as him being paranoid before. But now...  
Marsyas looked at me with serious eyes. Eyes of a solider that's seen a million battles. His tone carried more weight then a million speeches. "We need to talk."


End file.
